


Encore au Début

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Community: prettylightsfic, Cuddling and Snuggling, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-13
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce discovers a new side to one of his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Encore au Début

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Joanne, for the Pretty Lights 2010 challenge. It may not be 100% clear from the story, but I'm assuming that John, Kerri, Bruce, and Susan are all polyamorous and any non monogamy mentioned is completely consensual.

The floorplan of John and Kerri's house is big, open. Bruce gives the artwork a cursory admiring glance as he steps past John, rubbing the back of his neck. JJ's on a blanket in the middle of the living room, playing with a set of colorful plastic rings. Bruce waggles his fingers at him, but JJ doesn't seem to be in the mood to receive visitors. Bruce doesn’t blame him.

 

  


"Where's your wife?" he asks John, walking over to the window and taking in the view for a grand total of thirty seconds before he steps to another part of the room.

 

"Getting naked with your wife," John replies with a bemused smile. That does make Bruce stop moving, and he cocks his head to the side, considering.

 

"Huh. That... explains a lot, actually."

 

John laughs and Bruce walks to the piano, plucks out a slow arpeggio.

 

"You're in one of those moods, aren't you?" John asks as he steps closer, stopping at Bruce's side.

 

"Yeah," Bruce grunts noncommittally. They're rare enough, but when one hits, it's hard to jar himself out of his own sense of impending catastrophe. It's important to keep moving, his brain tells him. Keep moving.

 

He turns, and John hip-checks him. "I have an idea that might help."

 

Bruce's expression is skeptical. He's tried enough ideas over the years, but John's always persistent when he's in the game of helping a friend. "All right. Try me."

 

John laughs and his hand comes easily to the nape of Bruce's neck, squeezes gently as his chin tilts up for a deep, searching kiss. Bruce is surprised--they've never done this before, and John's palm on his chest and his own hand searching for an anchor on John's hip are unfamiliar. But he's not complaining; they have a similar enough outlook on life and he likes the unyielding press of John's lips, the unhurried brush of John's tongue inside his mouth.

 

"That's your bright idea?" he asks with a grin, without putting any space between them.

 

John laughs and shakes his head. "Actually no, it's not. Come sit."

 

John takes a seat on the pristine white sofa--impressive, given the child on the floor with the orange baby food-stained onesie, but Bruce notices it's a slip cover. He raises an eyebrow when John pats his lap, and doesn't make any movement forward.

 

"What, you want to _cuddle_?"

 

"It works."

 

"I'm about to jump out of my skin and you want me to sit in your lap." Bruce smiles incredulously and shakes his head.

 

"I don't want you to sit in my lap. I want you to put your head in my lap. And trust me, it works. Kerri and I do this when she's in one of her funks. They're a lot like yours."

 

"Yeah, well," Bruce grunts. "I'm not a girl."

 

John rolls his eyes, and Bruce can almost hear John's disappointment at him for taking the obvious shot. "Nor are you Japanese, nor do you have a great eye for interior design, or a particular talent with a strap-on dildo," John says dryly. "We can't all be perfect."

 

Bruce snorts and shrugs. "You don't know about my talents with dildos. I could surprise you."

 

"Sit your ass down, Bruce," John counters in an uncharacteristically firm voice. It's a voice that's hard to say no to, and so he sits, lets himself be wrestled down into a position that carries with it a childlike vulnerability. His head in John's lap, he watches JJ waddle around on the blanket and decides that really, he feels much _more_ vulnerable than a child. JJ can handle his shit.

 

"Relax, Bruce," John murmurs, fingers carding gently through Bruce's hair, and he lets the train of thought die.

 

"How? What do you want me to think about?"

 

"Think of a memory," John suggests. "Think of a romantic moment with Susan. Pick one a long way back."

 

Bruce is surprised by the suggestion, but he obediently closes his eyes and thinks of an 18-year-old Susan running rings around him in that skating rink in the park, in her adorably ridiculous little black coat with its furry gray hood. He thinks about a park bench that nearly froze his ass off, and a hot cardboard tray of poutine in his lap, and how she shrieked as he stroked blonde wisps away from her cheek with ruddy red-cold fingertips. He thinks about licking a drop of gravy from the corner of her mouth, and kissing her and and feeling like the luckiest man in the world. The tension of his frown dissolves into a soft smile, and John's fingertips trace it, communicating a silent message. _Here you are. This is you. The world will wait a while._ He curls in on himself, into John, absurdly grateful.

  



End file.
